


Like Castle Walls

by gryffindorsqueen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindorsqueen/pseuds/gryffindorsqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bull found people asleep on him & one time he woke up on someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Krem

**Author's Note:**

> Fill of a prompt on the DA Kink Meme:
> 
> "Bull is extremely comfortable, and people fall asleep on him all the damn time. I dunno, man, it just looks like he's got the perfect muscle-fat ratio to act as a living mattress. a 5+1 type of thing would be awesome."
> 
> And because I'm such a F!Trevelyan/Bull shipper, I couldn't resist adding some.
> 
> Expect a mix of angst, humor and friendship.

His eye - or rather, lack of - still hurts like a damned wyvern sting. But it's been patched up good enough and the scars are healing well. Now all Bull needs is to get used to seeing out of one eye.  
  
The Tevinter lad is sat next to him, staring into the campfire with blank eyes. Bull doesn't need his Ben-hassrath training to see what's wrong with him. He's messed up from running away and being forced to be something he isn't. And now he's left it all behind and there's nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants. He's never been so free, and he's never been so terrified.  
  
Bull reaches down to the small chest by his feet and pulls out a bottle of ale. He passes it to him with a lopsided smile.  
  
"Here."  
  
The lad jumps and then takes it off him, his gold eyes searching his face and lingering on his missing eye. He suddenly looks guilty.  
  
"Sorry about your eye." He says, pulling the cork out of the bottle.  
  
Bull just shrugs and chuckles. "Don't worry about it. It'll make fighting harder. It was getting too easy. Having a blindspot'll spice it up a bit."  
  
He looks like he doesn't know what to say so he just reverts back to what he's been saying since the bar fight. "Thanks."  
  
Bull just slaps him on his back. "No worries."  
  
They drink in contented silence for a while, with nothing but the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of the river some distance away.  
  
"Where are you heading to now?"  
  
"Orlais." Bull says, looking forward to returning to the Chargers. "Got a group there." He studies the lad. "You're welcome to tag along, if you want."  
  
He glugs down his ale and stares at the qunari with wide eyes. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"  
  
Bull snorts. "Course not. Could always use another sword. Bow...dagger...whatever you use."  
  
"Maul." He says quietly.  
  
Bull splutters. "Maul?! You got the muscles for that, boy?" The look on the Vint's face makes Bull wonder if it's the first time someone's called him 'boy' without any lies.  
  
_Alone and desperate, knowing what he is but unsure of how to be it. A good heart and a thirst for adventure. He's perfect for the Chargers. And the Chargers might just be perfect for him._  
  
"If you're gonna be lifting a maul, you'd better up your food game." Bull says, watching the fire turn the wood black. "And I'm not talking about any of those fancy Vint fruits either. I'm talking about meat, cheeses...protein and calcium, that's what you need. And then you gotta start lifting. I can start you on lighter ones first...no offense, but you seem pretty puny. But then that is comparing you to me. I've been sculpting this physique for years, you know. Anyway, we gotta get your muscle definition up. Ladies love that. Or guys...or both. Or neither...or whatever you're into. When we get to Orlais - "  
  
He's stopped by the sound of a bottle dropping to the floor and the feeling of a warm weight against his thick arm. He chuckles quietly when he sees the lad has fallen asleep, his mouth open slightly. He moves his arm slowly so he falls against his chest, more comfortable for both of them.  
  
Bull decides he'll keep watch all night. The boy's had enough trauma to last a lifetime and he could do with a night's rest. Besides, the sting of his missing eye is likely to keep him awake anyway.  
  
So he sits in front of the fire until morning, a bottle of ale in one hand and a Vint tucked into his chest.


	2. Vivienne

He hasn't been with the Inquisition long.  
  
It's only the second time he's been out with the Herald, traipsing through the muddy countryside with Varric and Vivienne. He likes everyone almost straight away; the Herald's an interesting woman, Vivienne's terrifyingly wonderful and Varric's downright hilarious.  
  
The sun's setting and after a day of sealing rifts, they're all eager to get back to camp. But the beach is cut off because the rolling tide has rushed in, grey and deadly. They could go around but it would be morning by the time they make it to a camp and they're all too exhausted to contemplate it. So they agree to bunker down for a few hours under a strip of canopy that the Herald carries with her.  
  
She offers to take the first watch and sits by the small fire, quietly sharpening her daggers with a whetstone. Bull lies furthest away from her, Varric the closest, and Vivienne wedged between them. Varric is already asleep, his mind blank and peaceful. Vivienne has dozed off too but she's less peaceful, twitching slightly beside him. Bull has slept through way worse, so he rests his head down on his pack and closes his eyes.  
  
He's so close to drifting off, the fade is calling his name and wrapping its soothing quiet around him when there's a sharp kick to his shin and the sting of nails digging into his chest. He opens his eyes quickly and sees Vivienne on his chest. The noble, icy  _Madame_  is gone and Bull can feel her trembling against him.  
  
"No..." She whispers in her troubled sleep. "No...I can't..."  
  
Bull senses movement by the fire and sees Lady Trevelyan watching, looking as thrown as he is. An agreement is sealed between them without either of them uttering a word. Bull glances back down at the shaking mage on his chest and gently puts an arm around her shoulders, saying softly,  
  
"Rest now, ma'am. You're safe.  _You're safe._ "  
  
It takes a while, but her trembling stops and she succumbs to a softer sleep, Bull's arm shielding her from the world. He dozes off with her, grateful for the shared warmth.

* * *

He wakes in the morning with a knee dangerously close to his crotch and an elbow near his windpipe. Vivienne is clambering away from him, brushing her clothes and cursing him.  
  
"Herald!" She hisses when she catches sight of Trevelyan re-lacing her boots. "Your qunari was crushing me all last night."  
  
It could just be that his eye is still blurry from sleep, but he thinks that Trevelyan is flushing slightly. " _My_  qunari?" She repeats under her breath, shaking her head and avoiding Bull's eyes.  
  
He clears his throat. "My apologies, ma'am." He says to Vivienne. "Used to having bodies next to me. Won't happen again, ma'am."  
  
She narrows her eyes at him. "Make sure it doesn't."  
  
She strides off to find her staff and Bull bends down to pick up his crushed pack and his axe. He jumps when Trevelyan rests her hand on his shoulder briefly as she passes him.  
  
Whether it's a consolation or a thank you, he isn't sure.


	3. Blackwall & Sera

Haven is nothing more than a destroyed smudge behind them and Trevelyan is lost. She's probably dead. That's what people whisper as they set up a temporary camp, tending the wounded and warming tired bodies around small fires.  
  
_She's probably dead._  
  
But he doesn't believe it yet. He  _can't._  
  
She's a fighter and he's sure that she hasn't given up yet. There's a thick, heavy knot of worry in his stomach and he's not used to it, not used to feeling this much for anyone who isn't a Charger.  
  
He eats some stale bread and hard cheese on a log half submerged in the snow. Blackwall comes to join him after a while, sitting in the snow at Bull's feet. They sit in silence, both of their minds elsewhere. Then Sera comes over, uncharacteristically quiet and seeking company. They sit and watch as Cullen checks over his troops, Josephine watches over the kid with the big hat, and Leliana talks with Cassandra.  
  
Sera falls asleep first. She rests her head in Bull's lap, arms wrapped around herself. He rests his hand on her shoulder, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing soothing his nerves. It doesn't take long before Blackwall drifts off too, his head lolling to the side, resting on Bull's knee.  
  
Bull sighs contentedly, his muscles finally resting and his mind calming. Their sleep is enough to make him seek his own. He rests his head on the tent pole behind him, closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the darkness behind his eyes.  
  
They're roused a short time later by the ringing of a bell and the shouts of soldiers.  
  
"The Herald!" One solider says to Leliana. "They found her! She's alive!"  
  
Bull's heart hammers in his chest as Cullen returns to the camp, Trevelyan in the arms of a solider behind her. White faced and trembling but alive, breathing and  _fighting._  
  
He feels Sera stir in his lap and Blackwall clears his throat. But none of them move for a long time, sharing relief and worry and heat until the soldiers start to sing.


	4. Lady Trevelyan

He's not surprised when she collapses on him.  
  
The things he's done to her - stuff she's never experienced before - has made her legs shake and her breasts heave. The sweet pain she's felt, every nerve on edge for a long time, teased and tormented in the best way until she finally succumbed, toppling over the edge with heady breathlessness.  
  
And now she's nothing more than a heap of exhaustion curled against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck.  
  
He doesn't usually do this.  
  
With most people, he makes sure they have their fun and then he leaves - no muss, no fuss. He likes his sex like that. It makes things simpler. But with her, he finds he's content to do it. She's warm and soft and his arm fits perfectly around her waist. Her breath brushes over the sensitive skin on his neck as she sleeps, her eyelashes occasionally fluttering.  
  
He's touched and strangely... _honoured._  
  
Lady Trevelyan is someone who doesn't give herself away easily. Her noble upbringing has instilled some strange need to cover up anything she feels, and Bull is amazed and pleased that she trusts him enough to let herself go in front of him. That's what it's all about really; the pain and pleasure and the blurry come down are all just bonuses.  
  
He can feel that the muscles in her back have relaxed and the tension in her shoulders has eased. He brushes her dark hair back from her face and smiles when he sees that her small frown has disappeared.  
  
So he just rests his head back on the pillow and dozes, stretched out in her bed like a cat in the sun.


	5. The Chargers & Cole

The fade is the worst thing he's ever seen. Eerie green light everywhere and horrors at every turn. Trevelyan, usually stoic, has a quiver in her voice as she leads them through to the rift.  
  
And then there's the nightmare demon. Bull is used to fighting beasts and demons but he's never experienced anything like this. The empty, endless sensation of complete despair that fills him -   
  
"Another drink for the Chief!"  
  
Krem slams a tankard on the table in front of Bull and the Chargers cheer. Bull takes in their eager faces and chuckles, downing most of the ale in one gulp. They all cheer again and continue chattering among themselves.  
  
He has never been so happy to be back among them, to be safe in the warm tavern with his friends around him. How they came out of the fade alive, he had no idea. Tomorrow morning he will beat those worries out of himself, or rather, get someone else to do it. Perhaps Cassandra. He has an idea she won't mind hitting him with a large stick.  
  
"How you doing, Chief?" Krem asks, watching him over the table.  
  
"Ahh. You worrying about me, Krem? That's real sweet." He chuckles. "I'm fine, though."  
  
Krem narrows his eyes. "I heard you were doing impressions of me in the fade."  
  
Bull snorts. He's forgotten about that. "Yeah well, you deserve it. For getting me into this mess."  
  
"And if I hadn't suggested it, we'd missing out on all the fun now. We wouldn't have found Skyhold as a base, nor made this many new allies. And you would never have met Lady Trevelyan."  
  
Bull chooses to ignore that last bit for the sake of his own sanity. "Yeah, yeah. Smart ass. Just get another round of ales in."  
  
Krem chuckles and does as he's told. And then it's Skinner's turn, then Grim's, then someone else's, and someone else...  
  
He wakes when it's still dark. Cabot 'accidentally' hits Bull's foot with the sweeping brush and he jerks awake to find himself led on the tavern floor, throat sore and head throbbing. He tries to get up and can't. Dalish is sprawled across his chest, singing (badly) in her sleep. He picks her off gently and almost laughs when he sees Rocky led with his back on Bull's stomach. He's snoring loudly and for a moment, Bull is fascinated by a trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Rocky's solid weight is a little harder to shift but he manages after two attempts.  
  
Then he looks down one last time to see a large hat covering his shins. He blinks, bewildered.  
  
"Hey there, kid."  
  
The hat moves to reveal Cole, eyes wide and pale. "Hello, The Iron Bull."  
  
"Wha'ya doing on my legs?"  
  
Cole blinks. "The others were doing it and I thought I should too."  
  
"Huh." He smiles down at Cole; the boy's curiosity rarely fails to cheer him. "Well, I doubt it's comfortable down there on my legs. If you want the full Iron Bull experience, you'd best come up top where the man-pillows are."  
  
Cole stares at him but apparently understands his meaning because he moves up to Bull's chest. "Varric said I should ask when touching people. Is it alright if I lie on you, The Iron Bull?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, don't sweat it, kid. Just come here." He opens his arms and Cole crawls in, curling up with those bony limbs and restless eyes. After a few moments he speaks again.  
  
"I think I understand why they sleep on you now, The Iron Bull."  
  
"Oh?" He replies to Cole's hat. "I thought it was just because I've got plenty of padding."  
  
"Yes it is. But it's more too.  _Big and strong and safe, like castle walls but warm. If I sleep on him, he won't mind. He'll look after me. It doesn't matter what I've done. He'll look after me._ "  
  
Bull is surprised to find himself swallowing a lump in his throat. "Yeah, kid. It's...something like that."  
  
They both fall quiet and Bull thinks he might drift off again when he hears Cole whisper, "But what about you, The Iron Bull? If you look after us, who looks after you?"


	6. Iron Bull

_It's impossible to go on - to fully concentrate - when she's lying right there in the dust. Bloody and deathly still, her face turned away from him._  
  
_Is she awake? Is she alive? Or do they fight for nothing?_  
  
_But there's no time to check, so they keep going - fueled by rage and fear. But then Krem is falling too, a blade sunk in his chest. Skinner with blood all over her hands, shaking her head as her lips turn white...Dalish is knocked to the ground, encased in ice. Rocky's dead, crushed under the weight of a fallen ogre...Grim in a sprawl on the ground with his throat slashed..._  
  
_Down they go all around him until it's just him, ankle deep in blood that isn't his._  
  
_And he's completely alone._  
  
_The landscape is empty as far as his eye can see. Just him, thick silence and heavy grief pressing down on his shoulders. The enemies that surrounded them have gone, dissolved into nothing now they have what they want. He's breathless with despair, as though someone has their ice cold hands around his throat. All around is empty, no end and no beginning and he has no idea where he fits, or how, or why -_  
  
_Then he feels a hand between his shoulder blades, warm and gentle._  
  
_He turns and there's nothing there. But he felt it. He felt...something. Someone else is here. If only he could find them -_  
  
He wakes with a shudder, his whole body covered in cold sweat. His face is buried in something warm, something that's definitely not a pillow. All he can see is smooth, soft skin...peaked with dusky pink nipples. He looks up and sees his Lady Trevelyan staring down at him, concern in her eyes.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
_She's here. They're all still here. You haven't gone mad. You're not alone in the world._  
  
"Yeah." He groans into her breasts, gripping her hips in his rough hands as hard as he dares. "Just..."  
  
"A bad dream?" She says, her hand slowly stroking his back.  
  
If he was sensitive about people's idea of 'manliness', it'd be embarrassing. He isn't, so it's not. Instead it calms his breathing and brings him back to himself.   
  
"Better?" She asks after a while.  
  
"Mmm." He says, thinking that the nightmare might be worth it if he gets to lie on her like this; the gentle, morning sunlight streaming through the windows and the castle waking up beneath them. This is peace, he realises. This is what people mean by 'contentment'.  
  
And he thinks... _maybe_.  
  
The two of them, their friends, the Chargers, Skyhold...  
  
Maybe this could work. Maybe this is home after all.


End file.
